


Breathe Her

by Left_Hand_Man



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: Anorexia, Caretaking, Eating Disorders, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Left_Hand_Man/pseuds/Left_Hand_Man
Summary: A tiny nuna piece that came to me in hearing Sia's song "Breathe Me"





	Breathe Her

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned that, though this is a short and sweet piece, it may be triggering to those who have suffered or are suffering from eating disorders

He swept the hair back from the warm lump that was curled on his lap, pulling the long, blonde strands away from her tear-stained face. He stayed silent, lovingly stroking her hair, the only sounds blending in to the wind bending the boughs of the trees being her muffled snuffles. He sighed softly, continuing to draw patterns on the tender skin of her scalp, before beginning to hum. It was low and soothing, though unfamiliar. He could find the tune along the way. 

It wasn't often that anyone saw her this way, even Neville. Luna was usually lived in her own world that no one else could see, impervious to jeers and taunts and stresses. No matter how ethereal his precious Luna was, however, she was still human. Her tears dampened his pants. 

He kept his left hand on her head as he stroked the other down her neck and shoulders, finally resting his hand on her rib cage, bones protruding through her soft, opal skin. A thickness grew at the back of his throat and winded up until it prickled at the backs of his eyes. "My beautiful girl," he whispered, not to avoid being overheard, but to avoid the crack in his voice. 

"I'm sorry." Her weak voice seemed to curl in on itself just like her body, tightly wrapped in a fetal position.

He chuckled sadly. He saw how small she was now, too small for such a big world. She had been wasting away for weeks, months, a year or more and he hadn't noticed. Her best friend, her boyfriend. Her protector. He was a screw-up if he couldn't even realize that his moon was crumbling to dust right before his eyes. "What for?"

"For putting you through this," she whimpered.

"No." He said firmly, wrapping his fingers around her chin and gently tilting her head up. "No. You tell me everything. I want to hear."

"I don't want to burden you."

"I'm stronger than you,  Luna," he sighed, trying to find his words. "If you take on everything alone... it'll be too heavy for you."

She shook in his lap, curling her meager, weakened form impossibly tighter. "Shh," he hushed her whirring thoughts with the sound it makes knee-deep in the sea, reminding Luna of the fun times they had in Shell Cottage, the summer after the war. She smiled, just the tiniest bit. 

He stroked her hair a bit more before wrapping his hands around her bony shoulders and pulling her up, her reddened eyes meeting his own as he tenderly brushed the tears from them. "My little girl," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing her in. "Too little." He pulled her up onto his lap, her thin legs layed gently over his. 

"I love you Luna," he uttered with such an urgency he paused to regain composure, looking away from her. "I want you to be healthy, and happy, and safe..." his voice cracked as he trailed off, forcing himself to turn back to the girl in his lap, her head bowed and her eyes hidden by her light hair. Neville wondered if it had been falling out. It looked thinner than usual, he noticed as he pulled it back from her face oncemore.

"I'm sorry," she repeated herself, squeezing her eyes shut as if it pained her. 

"Why?" He took both of her hands in his own and stared at her face, new tears blooming from her eyes. 

"I can't take care of myself." Her body quaked with restrained sobs, tears darkening her periwinkle skirt. 

"Then let me," he compelled her, bending closer to her ear as he embraced her frail form. "I've got something from the greenhouse," he told her, twisting away as he retrieved an old mess kit from his satchel. He twisted open the lid and dug in a spoon to whatever it was, stirring up the thick mixture. "It's nectar from the goranke plant, from Greece. It's very good for you."

Luna looked at the thick pudding and pursed her lips tight. He knew that pudding was her favorite, but that had to be fattening. "Come on, you can do it," he encouraged her, filling up a spoon full. Her lips were sealed firmly. "Come on, my little Luna. Open up for Buckbeak." He made an awful squawking sound to imitate the hippogriff, and Luna couldn't help but laugh, allowing him to push the sweet nectar past her sweeter lips.


End file.
